Jumping in on day 7!! I have some catching up to do.
NaPoWriMo is National Poetry Writing Month akin to the novel writing challenge. I just stumbled across it.
I’ll start by re-writing a poem I submitted on a writing.ie challenge two days ago that had to include the word April:
On Wednesday, it was Winter and then
Thursday by noon it was Spring.
April is a confusion of rubber boots and woolen toques
Mud-soaked pant hems and sun-bronzed faces.
Cold, aching fingers clutch first daffodils.
Ok, let’s see what else I can come up with this evening. It’ll be a hurried, catch up, slam poetry night so I’m back in line with the challenge. These won’t be stellar, but hopefully they will be fun.
Snow storm covers Spring
Freshly melted roads turn white
Do not trip on ice.
Working towards three … can I do it?
Yes I can!
There once was a butterfly who flew by
With fluttering wings it flitted and flounced by
Faster and farther
Further and feistier
The flutterby blew by and said bye-bye.
Well I don’t know what that was. It was going to be a Limerick but it went off on it’s own direction. I’ll still count it as the third poem.
Winter winds its way down
into the ground, snow-melt nourishes the earth.
” Wake… wake,”
whispers the wild wind to the wee.
Wood nymphs creep sleepily from winter dens
They turn wan faces skyward and seek the warmth of the sun.
Five Five Five!!!!!
Looking into the bowl of flour, eggs and sugar
I see my fathers crinkly hands
My grandfather’s spotty, elder hands
I make a face and hurl a sound; an effect to express my opinion about something
funny, stupid, silly, sad
And hear my big brother’s voice.
A deep sigh
A belly laugh
My mother erupts
From within me and I hear her all around.
Years go by
I’m all grown up
But the people who shaped us when we are young
Cling to us in ways that go much deeper than DNA
It is as if they have etched their names on our bones.
Working on six. Number six.
Rock stars and acrobats
Walk a fine line.
But oh, they have so far to fall.
Like a safety net, a rock star can ride the wave of fans who stick around to watch their backs,
30 years on.
That’s for U2. Must fit in one poem for U2 this month. They seem a bit obsessed with making their music count among the Gen Why kids. I suppose I’d like to remind them that top 40 popularity is fickle and fleeting but loyalty has a long lifespan. They are a well-loved band and always will be whether or not they make another top 40 hit.
Okay. I’ve made it. SEVEN!! I need a final poem for tonight. Drum roll pleasssssssssssssssssssse
These seven poems took an hour
I feel so full of power
The first six were heartfelt and
This one is poorly dealt
So I think I’m going to have to try again.
Okay ya that doesn’t count. Try again.
Sunshine fades to nightlight
Stars swing to the west
Wolves are howling good night
and Owls are in their nests.
Pets are settled into bed
My cup of tea is steeping
I think about the day ahead
and of the great things I’ll be reaping.
Simple but true.